It’s taken me awhile, over two weeks all told, to get over
the heartbreak and find the time to do some analysis of the 49ers' season-ending
loss to the Seahawks in the NFC Championship game.
The following column relies heavily on graphics, all of
which are screenshots from a game recap on NFL.com (which can be found HERE).
I struggled with how to organize all of this. I initially intended
to order it by how significant the play was in the course of the game, but it’s
difficult—or wholly impossible—to really determine the significance of a play
without also considering the time and context that the play came in. All of
which is a roundabout way of saying that it’s not only easier, but probably
more effective, to just be simple and do this (with a couple special exceptions)
chronologically.
It might be difficult to remember, given how things ended,
but the first play of the game could not have gone any better. Aldon Smith
showed why—when he’s got his shit together—he is one of the most dominant
players in the game of football, on either side of the ball. Let’s take a quick
gander at what pure brilliance looks like for a second.
Of course, and any 49er fan that has even the slightest grip
on reality was expecting it, we weren’t able to pick up even a single first
down following the turnover, and we settled for a field goal.
Obviously, there’s so much time left in the game at this
point that it’s difficult to quantify how important that turnover was, or that
field goal, or the lack of a touchdown, but honestly that might have been the
single biggest series in the game—for the Seahawks to come away with only a FG
against them at that juncture. The Niners' biggest weakness—redzone offense—came
out to haunt them as all of us fans feared it would.
Still, if you had told me the game would begin with a
Seattle turnover and a San Francisco field goal, I would have taken that
gladly. It was a solid start and the defense was playing fast and hitting hard.
We could look at Donte Whitner’s the-NFL-seriously-is-out-to-get-this-guy-I-can’t-believe-they-called-that-in-the-most-important-game-of-the-season-how-fucking-ticky-tack-the-league-is-withering-and-going-to-shit-I-understand-the-need-for-player-safety-but-come-on-this-is-getting-absurd-how-in-the-world-can-he-do-anything-different-at-all-and-still-have-the-respect-of-his-teammates-and-peers-as-a-football-player
“hit to the head and neck area” call. We can even go back to Seattle’s first
big pass completion, which by all rights should have been intercepted by Eric
Reid, but who mistimed his jump ever so slightly.
Before I continue I want to quote myself. This is from my
Championship game preview, “Once again, let’s reach back into our bag of clichés and pull out the most flaccid, clammy, uninteresting one we can! The team that wins will be the team that plays better.”
I made a number of self-effacing comments about the nature
of this cliché, but it’s one that is used—in different variations—by NFL
coaches and players in every post-game conference across the league.
Colin Kaepernick is fond of saying, “We need to make more
plays.” Or,“We had the right plays called, we just need to execute better.” Or, when asked why he throws the ball so often to particular receivers, “He makes plays.”
Part of this is his “fuck-the-media” persona, but part of it
is pure honesty. He could go a lot more in depth, sure, but sometimes it just
comes down to who makes the plays that are there to be made and who doesn’t.
In too many cases, as Eric Reid’s missed INT is a perfect
example of, the 49ers did not take advantage of their opportunities to make
plays.
[Though it’s not as if the Seahawks took advantage of every opportunity either; Earl Thomas
came up similarly short on Kaepernick’s touchdown pass to Anquan Boldin later
in the game. But as I remarked (and I quote myself again), after the Seahawks
Week 13 win over the Saints which all but guaranteed them home-field advantage
in the NFC, “It gives them the best chance of any team in football to gain
entrance to the Super Bowl, because they now have the luxury of not playing
their best football and still winning two straight playoff games, because there
is a very real possibility, an almost unavoidable certainty, that whoever they
play will not be playing their best ball either. It’s going to take a team’s
very best performance, mixed with a down game from the Seahawks to come away
with a road win in Seattle.”]
The Seahawks, in Seattle, can afford to miss a couple
opportunities and still survive. Visiting teams, even of the 49ers caliber,
cannot.
But I digress (for now). Let’s move on.
The first real big fuck up the 49ers made, the play that
almost tangibly changed the character and momentum of the game, came with about
8:00 left in the 2nd Quarter. Our defense had been stifling up until
this point. Then, on 2nd and 7, Donte Whitner failed to execute a
very, very simple assignment.
Whitner, in an undisguised Cover-2 look, decided to take a
nap and let Doug Baldwin get behind him for a 51 yard pass play.
How in the world did this happen? Well it begins with the
elusiveness of Russell Wilson. I will give credit where credit is due, and when
a QB buys eight seconds of time before throwing a pass, credit is certainly
due.
HOWEVER, even with the eight seconds Russell Wilson bought
him, Doug Baldwin should never have
gotten open on this play.
Hey Donte, pay attention to the receiver in your zone. Donte…Donte! Don’t look at Russell Wilson, you have five guys chasing him around, pay attention to Baldwin. Please, Donte, please remember the very first lesson of playing safety—you have to be deeper than the deepest man. Quit being a flat-footed spectator and cover Donte. GOD DAMNIT DONTE. (I had time to think all of this in real-time as Russell Wilson ran around to find an open man.)
God damnit Donte…
Let’s take a look at what Donte was so worried about in the
backfield that he lost his fucking mind and forgot how to play his position.
Here is Wilson working his Wilson magic. He’s being hurried,
but is not yet under duress. This is due to the strategic pass rush the 49ers
employed on this play, each defender maintaining contain on the sneaky bastard.
Like a special teams coverage unit, the pass rushers are maintaining “lane
integrity” for lack of a better term. Wilson buys time to throw, but is not
being allowed to break contain of the defensive line. This is wonderfully
executed football right here.
In the roughly two seconds that have passed notice how
disciplined the pass rush is on Wilson. Ray McDonald (center-right of the
screenshot , covering the “&” sign of the down and distance graphic) actually stops pursuing Wilson to drop into a potential rushing lane. Bowman hangs back to cover the sideline escape, and Demarcus Dobbs (top right corner) has outside contain to Wilson’s left. Brooks and Dorsey are both pressuring. Ideally, Dorsey should rush towards Wilson’s left shoulder and force him up the field and further into the collapsing pocket, but I’m going to give the big man a break. He’s 300+ lbs. and has been hustling his ass off for 6 seconds. The end result of this play is not on Glenn Dorsey.
Point being…What the fuck was Whitner watching? All of his
teammates executing their assignments to perfection? Was he in such awe of the
wonderful football being played in front of him by his ten teammates that he figured he might as well take a gander and bask in the glory of it all? I mean, if 10 guys do their job, certainly the 11th is entitled to sit back and enjoy it right?
Or is he so enamored with Russel Wilson's scrambling ability that he's convinced two all-pro linebackers and a troop of other defenders are incapable of bringing him down, and he's going to have to come in and clean up the mess? I don't know which one it is, but neither is acceptable.
I'm confused Donte, so god damn confused.
God damnit Donte.
So the defense buckles down and holds the Seahawks to a
field goal. It could have been worse.
And it got worse, right after half it got worse.
This time we can lay a good amount of the blame on the other
safety Eric Reid, though on this particular play—a 40 yard touchdown run by
Marshawn Lynch—the defense as a whole executes decidedly worse, and the offense
decidedly better.
In this first screenshot we see the initial movement off the snap. The Seahawks offensive line down-blocks to the right side of the formation, while Zach Miller (on the left) seals off Aldon Smith on the edge. The movement of the offensive line to the right (the defense’s left) causes NaVorro Bowman to misread the play (as you can see his first step is hard onto his left foot).
The cornerbacks are doing their jobs, simply maintaining the
edge. They are responsible for pushing Marshawn back towards the center of the
field, where—hypothetically—the best inside linebacker duo in the game, along
with Justin Smith, Glenn Dorsey and Ray McDonald will be waiting to make a
tackle. In essence, they are out of the initial moments of the play. In this
second screenshot we also see Ahmad Brooks rush up the field, essentially
taking him out of the play, while Justin Smith is double-teamed (and held) by
two Seahawks interior lineman. Because Bowman’s first step was to his left, he
is easily blocked by a Seahawks lineman advancing to the second level of our
defense. Willis, on the weak side, gets caught up in the wash and is unable to
make a play on Lynch. Basically, Seattle blocks this play up to perfection, and
with one misstep by Bowman you get this:
A hole big enough to drive a truck through. Notice the
perfect seal block by Miller on Smith on the left side of the screen, plus
Jermaine Kearse and backup tackle Alvin Bailey running free into the second level to block
for Lynch.
Sometimes these things happen. Did Bowman make a mistake?
Yes, but it shouldn’t be a killer mistake. At this point in the play I’d say
Seattle simply executed to perfection, and it’s hard to knock the 49ers defense
for misplaying it. Good play call, great execution. Where things really go
wrong is on Eric Reid’s tackle attempt. The play was blocked for 10 yards and
it should have netted 10 yards. Instead, Reid, a usually aggressive tackler,
comes up hesitant in run support, gets flat footed waiting for Lynch to arrive
to him and gets the Beast Mode treatment, giving up another 30 yards and a
touchdown. No good.
This weak ass attempt at a strip instead of a touchdown saving tackle just adds insult to injury. |
Let’s continue on with the depressing trip down memory lane.
I don’t even need to break this next play down it’s so bad, but I’m going to.
This decision and throw by Kaepernick is poorer than the resolution of the
screenshot I got to show it.
Boldin came across the formation in motion and runs an
intermediate route to the sideline. Kaepernick had just completed a play fake
to Kendall Hunter and lets the ball go about 3 or 4 seconds after it is
snapped.
The result is a Kam Chancellor interception. He had dropped
into his flat zone underneath Boldin, as the Seahawks were running their
familiar and much ballyhooed Cover-3. With no route designed to go into
Chancellor’s zone (which Kaepernick should know because, y’know, he called the
damn play), Chancellor is able to peek into the backfield, read Kaep's eyes and drift into
position for a very, very easy interception. This is an elementary read of the
defense, and the ball should have been dumped off to Kendall Hunter immediately
for a decent, or maybe longer, gain on first down. Bad Kaep. Bad.
Here is a quick breakdown of the Cover-3, as explained by a
MS Paint diagram of my own devising. If you’ve ever played Madden, you are more
than familiar with the Cover-3; and if you know anything at all about playing
offense in Madden, you know not to throw lollipops to intermediate routes on
the sideline against it (this isn’t fucking rocket science). Or, you do throw lollipops to
the sideline and the stupid A.I. watches the ball go over his head before
reacting, because the QB that threw the ball is Peyton Manning, and Peyton
Manning is infallible (in video games).
Pre-snap alignment, with their eventual movement outlined by
the arrows. Figure it out kids.
Once they reach their zones, the defense looks something like
this. The soft spots are to throw seam routes between the deep CB and FS
(though this is very difficult when the free safety is lightning fast ballhawk
Earl Thomas), an early back-shoulder throw down the sideline while the CB is
still retreating (which the Niners used fairly effectively) and the dump off over
the middle to an outlet (which is where Kendall Hunter is open on this play and where Kaep should have, but inevitably didn’t throw the ball).
This was a big turnover for very obvious reasons. It was one
that could have been very easily avoided. I am not accusing him of it myself,
but when Trent Dilfer and other analysts refer to Kaepernick’s reading of
defenses as “remedial,” this is the kind of shit they’re referring to.
And finally we have the big play, the granddaddy of them
all, and some more criticism of Colin Kaepernick.
There’s some debate over whether he should even throw this
pass at all, given the down and distance and time on the clock on timeouts
remaining. Why take a shot to the endzone at this juncture?
I’ll answer with—because the Niners have a mediocre redzone offense,
and the Seahawks defense is anything but mediocre. The Niners got a very strong
pre-snap look to score the needed touchdown, and Kaepernick took it. It was
also a well-designed and well-timed play call. After plenty of contemplation about it, I have no issues with the
decision to go for the endzone here.
I also have very little issue with the in-play decision to
actually let the ball loose. Kaep had his boy singled up and he went for the
dagger. I like that confidence, and I like the decision.
I did not like Kaepernick's execution of the play at all, and this has very little to do with the throw itself.
Here is the pre-snap look. Unlike in their typical base
defense, Kam Chancellor is lined up parallel with Earl Thomas, each taking a
hash, showing a Cover-2 look with the safeties. However, due to Sherman’s
stance, showing press, Kaepernick correctly diagnoses this as a Cover-1 or
Cover-3 (or a variation on a Cover-3), which, this being the Seahawks, of
course it is.
Sherman is playing press coverage, but is also “responsible”
for the deep third of the field behind him. Because there are no receivers lined
up on his side of the field, the only person that could potentially get behind
him is Crabtree, so he is in man-to-man coverage almost by default.
Sherman actually does have some semblance of safety help, as
Thomas drops into a “robber” position, taking away the intermediate middle of
the field and reading Kaepernick’s eyes. Should a deep crossing route come from
the 49ers’ left side of the formation, it would be Thomas’ responsibility to
pick up the crosser.
The Seahawks are basically doing the logical thing, loading
up the middle of the field to take away Davis and Boldin, while also dropping
back to the endzone to take away any chance at a quick-strike touchdown to the
strong side of the formation. They give the Niners two things—single coverage
on Crabs, and an easy pocket to Quinton Patton.
Pre-snap Kaepernick can’t exactly know that the easy pocket
to Patton will be available. If it is Cover-1, Patton would also essentially be
manned up. But the second Kaep snaps the ball an easy read on the safeties
would allow Kaep to diagnose the coverage post-snap (hypothetically). Obviously
all of this is happening almost instantaneously so it's hard to criticize and judge, but this is why they spend all
week watching film and sitting in meeting rooms, and why he will eventually ask to be paid one hundred million dollars.
Regardless, it actually doesn’t matter whether the Seahawks
are playing a Cover-1 or Cover-3 in this instance. Once Kaep knows it’s one of
those two options his mind is made up to throw the ball to Crabtree, and
rightfully so. This play is designed to attack the single coverage the Niners
were expecting to get from Sherman. So Kaep made the correct pre-snap read.
Let’s take a moment to diagram out what is going on here.
This is a pre-snap look at the defensive alignment and what
the defense is designed to do when the ball is snapped.
This is, hypothetically, the coverage the Seahawks are
trying to achieve. Everything is locked down besides the ball over the top of
Sherman (a throw they are confident he will defend) or a quick throw to Patton
(which will eat up precious seconds and likely require a timeout to stop the clock). It’s very
simple, effective play calling.
These are the routes as run by the Niners. They were
prepared for the coverage the Seahawks were calling and had a play called to
attack the weaknesses of that coverage. Both teams got what they wanted both
pre- and post-snap. This is the beauty of divisional football, and the two best
teams playing one another several times a year. It came down to who was going to execute and make the best play. No gimmicks, just ball.
This is how the defense moves with the routes. The yellow area
is the vacant area in the zone coverage, as Sherman is singled up on Crabtree.
The ball is snapped and you can see by the angle of his head that Kaepernick’s eyes immediately begin
at the safeties. When he see Thomas stay home, in just that split second, he
knows his pre-snap read was correct, and he loads the gun for his shot to
Crabtree.
This is where Kaepernick makes his first, and most drastic
mistake. The play called, it seems to me, is designed for a play-fake to the far
side of the field; a fake quick screen to Patton. Davis chips defensive end Chris Clemons and
Boldin runs a clearance route, taking defenders deep away from Patton. The play is not designed to be thrown to the left, but
it is designed to appear the it could be and freeze the defense to that side of the field.
Kaepernick should carry out his fake to Patton, which would
freeze Malcolm Smith, the weakside linebacker (on Crabtree’s side of the
field ). A pump-fake to Patton would (most likely) freeze Smith, or cause him to step towards that side, and in doing so would (in theory) take him out of the play when the ball is thrown deep over his head. You can see in the screenshot above that even as Crabtree is barely advancing beyond the line of scrimmage, Kaepernick has locked his vision on him, and Malcom Smith has already flipped his hips towards that side of the field, preparing to track down the pass. A look to the left mitigates that all-important flip-of-the-hips.
As we all know by watching NaVorro Bowman return an
interception 89 yards for a TD against the Falcons, linebackers instinctually
flow to the ball. Smith has his eyes on Kaepernick from the get-go, as he
correctly diagnoses off the bat that there are no receivers coming on underneath routes to his side of the field, which he would be responsible for.
Because Kaepernick never executes the play fake, Smith is
free to read his eyes the entire play and then sprint to the ball, allowing him
to make an easy interception in the endzone when Sherman bats it down.
Because Kaepernick knew he wanted to throw the ball to
Crabtree before the snap even happened, he simultaneously made the (conscious
or unconscious) decision to abort the play-fake, probably because keeping his
eyes on Crabtree throughout his route would, in theory, give him a better
chance to make an accurate throw.
So when he didn’t make a thread-the-needle, perfect throw to
Crabtree and Sherman did this…
Malcom Smith was here (yellow), not here (red box), or over
there (red arrow).
And our season ended. It came down to one play and one play that represented this game as a whole very well; one play
both teams called excellent plays for, and one play that the Seahawks executed
better than we did.
__________________________________________________
But I’m not going to end my season writing about the 49ers
on as sour of a note as the actual season ended on. I want to go back to two
very, very positive plays and show you why I still have the utmost faith in
this team, and in Colin Kaepernick.
OK, we all remember Kaepernick’s touchdown pass to Boldin.
It was probably the coolest play in the game (outside that whole interception
to win it thing).
This is Kaepernick in a nutshell. He has an outlet to his
right, but the play isn’t going to net much, and Colin Kaepernick isn’t Alex
Smith, so dumping it down is tantamount to torture as far as he's concerned. He steps up with authority…
Digs his foot in the ground to sink the defense towards him,
and then…
JUMP THROWS THE FOOTBALL TO THE BACK OF THE ENDZONE (HE IS OFF THE GROUND), THROWING INTO THE
COVERAGE OF THE BEST SAFETY IN THE NATIONAL FOOTBALL LEAGUE…
And it is an absolute
laser for a touchdown.
AN ABSOLUTE LASER |
How many guys in the NFL have the athleticism and arm strength to make that throw...and have the
balls to do it? I think we’re basically looking at Aaron Rodgers, Andrew Luck
and Cam Newton. If you wanted to be really generous I guess Ryan Tannehill and Mike Vick have an outside
chance. But no, no they don't. Not against the Seahawks and not in a conference championship game.
Kaep is special.
And not only is Kaep a physical specimen that has talent up
the yang—the guy is a football player. You can criticize Kaep for his
execution at times, for not following through on the X's & O’s, but you can’t say
the guy isn’t clutch. Kaep is clutch, and he’s going to come out a Super Bowl
winner soon enough. I feel it.
People forget how the final drive started. 4th
and 2, two minutes left…
Kaep is pressured to his left and pursued by four Seahawks defenders. A fifth blocks his path to a first down. He loads up and fires across his body…
TO MY BOY ST. FRANKY GORE. WHO MAKES THE CATCH WITH A BROKEN
FINGER THAT REQUIRED SURGERY AFTER THE GAME!
These are my Niners. And we are going to win a championship.
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